


It's Just a Habit

by pianoforeplay



Category: due South
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-18
Updated: 2011-01-18
Packaged: 2017-10-14 21:02:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/153433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pianoforeplay/pseuds/pianoforeplay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fraser isn't the only one with an oral fixation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Just a Habit

Ray didn't know where he picked up the habit. He'd had it since he was a kid, just started doing it without even thinking. Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches or ham or turkey sandwiches with mayonnaise and mustard and ketchup and relish or any other kind of condiment, really. Ray wasn't too picky.

It always just seemed like a quick and easy rinse. No water faucet to worry about, no messing around with hot or cold or any unnecessary splashing. Just lift, swipe and toss. Done. His mother used to grimace at him ("Now really, Stanley!") and Stella used to give him shit ("Christ, Ray, we _do_ have a dishwasher."), but he'd learned to ignore it. So, maybe it was sort of unclean and maybe he always risked the potential of cutting himself (though more often than not, he used a butter knife, so there really wasn't much risk there), but in the thirty-some-odd years he'd been doing it, he'd never nicked himself once. So, maybe he had an oral fixation. So what? It was still better than leaving it in the sink all dirty and sticky.

It took a while for Fraser to notice his habit. And it was just like every other time: Ray swiped the knife over the bread, spreading the mustard thoroughly and then brought it up to his mouth. Lick, lick and toss - _clang_ \- hardly even interrupting himself.

He looked up then, still talking, still smiling until he saw the look on Fraser's face, a look he wasn't sure he'd ever seen before. Eyes wide, lips parted in a silent 'oh' shape, a red flush creeping up from under the collar of his tunic and spreading over his neck and up to his ears, cheeks flushed crimson. And just as quickly as it'd appeared, it was gone again as Fraser ducked his head and scratched at his eyebrow with his thumb and shuffled his feet.

Ray blinked. Smirked a little. And made a mental note to fix sandwiches a lot more often.

Later on, they sat in Ray's living room watching baseball, their sandwiches long gone. Ray had his feet propped up on the coffee table and a beer resting on his stomach as Fraser sat beside him, carefully holding his tea between two hands. It was the 7th inning and the Cubs were far enough behind that Ray'd pretty much given up hope for any sort of miracle win.

He gave a yawn and stretched a little and took a sip of his beer, tongue flicking over the rim before he swallowed. (Another habit he'd had since before he could remember. Hell, he'd probably done it back when he drank from Coke bottles, or maybe even with the milk bottles his mother used to order for all he could remember. It was just an automatic _thing_ he did. Pucker, swallow, lick and breathe.) He caught a movement of red out the corner of his eye and glanced over at Fraser, who was suddenly staring at the television screen as though baseball was the best thing he'd seen since igloo building, his cheeks starting to match the color of his tunic.

Ray bit back another grin and swiped his tongue over the bottle's rim again as he studied his partner for another moment. He leaned forward, setting the beer on the coffee table and shifted a bit to face Fraser, bringing his legs up under him and resting his bent arm on the back of the couch. Fraser continued watching the Cubs lose as Ray watch the movement of Fraser's throat when he swallowed another sip of tea and found himself unconciously biting his lip at the thoughts it brought to mind. He waited for Fraser to set his mug down before speaking.

"You like it when I lick things." A quiet statement, accompanied with a slight jut of his chin as Fraser sat back.

And then wide blue looked straight at him. "Pardon?"

Ray let a hint of a smile cross his face as he reached out to give Fraser's knee a poke, "You," and another, "Like it," another, "When I," and a hard jab just as Fraser tried to yank his leg back, "Lick things." His body instinctively leaned forward as Fraser tried to pull away and he rested a hand a little higher up on Fraser's thigh both to steady himself and make sure Fraser couldn't wiggle out from under him.

Fraser shook his head and cleared his throat as his back curved, nearly bending backward over the arm of the couch. "No, Ray, I can assure you, I do not."

"Liar."

Fraser's mouth tightened into a scowl, an act that made Ray's grin melt into an almost coy smile.

"I like it when _you_ lick things." Fraser raised a disbelieving eyebrow and Ray caved a bit with a half-shrug. "Okay, maybe when said 'things' don't have the potential of getting you _killed_ , I do." Fraser continued staring at him and Ray let out quick sigh. "And when they're not absolutely disgusting, like that uh, that gunk from the morgue the other day. That was just... _ugh_ ," and he shivered a little at the memory.

Fraser shook his head again and let out a heavy sigh, "Ray, I don't know where you're getting this absurd idea--"

Ray shook himself again and leaned closer. "You were staring at me."

Fraser's eyes went wide, more from exhasperation than surprise at this point, as he searched Ray's expression and Ray could tell he was forcing himself to keep calm and controlled. "I was not... _staring_ at you. I may have _glanced_ at you, yes, but last I was aware, that is not grounds for accusing someone of--"

"You _blushed_ , Fraser."

His hand was still firm on Fraser's thigh and he could feel the slight movement of muscle under his palm as Fraser shifted a little.

"You blushed and now you're stammering--"

"I am not stammering!"

Ray squeezed his thigh again and ignored the tone of Fraser's voice as his own rose just enough to speak over him, "You're _stammering_ and that... _that_ can only mean one thing."

Fraser squirmed slightly and attempted to clear his throat. "Ray, _really_ , I have not been stammering and I'm afraid I don't understand how this- this is--"

His rebuttal was cut short, however, as Ray's hand pushed quickly up under his tunic and pressed against the starch fabric of Fraser's uniform pants. Ray gave a rough squeeze and growled just as Fraser let out a low, surrendering moan.

Ray smiled broadly and licked his bottom lip (another little habit he'd developed since the first time he'd been an awkward teenager alone with Stella in a dark room) just as he leaned in close. "Oh, you like it alright."

And then Ray bent forward and Fraser's head fell back and Fraser admitted (kind of incoherently and after a very quiet 'oh dear') exactly how much he really _did_ like Ray licking certain things.

 **end.**

**Author's Note:**

> Initially posted [here](http://pianoforeplay.livejournal.com/9473.html) on 3/25/2006.


End file.
